Wandering Details (Glaz&Nomad oneshot full story pending)
by Streusle
Summary: Just a little oneshot on Glaz and Nomad bonding over art and the little d e t a i l s of their lives c: (No smut. Shocker, I know :o)


**Aight boiis, time to piss some people off because I'm using my usual writing style again. Don't get me wrong, separating the dialogue lines by themselves is cool- but it's not me at all. Sorry my guy** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ **Anywho, enjoii boiis and grills**

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The chalky sounds of granite gliding across paper filled the small space of Nomad's room as she sketched out the gardens of the fabled Fortress training grounds. It had been years since she'd walked the stone paths outlined with the little man-made canals that stemmed from the fountain; but she could still smell the sweet fragrance that radiated from the lotus petals and feel the warmth from the sunshine that bathed the gardens daily without fail. Nomad smiled as she immersed herself in the visuals that painted themselves across her mind. That was one of the perks to having an eidetic memory. Whenever she needed an escape she would simply go back to any place at any moment in time and travel through once again. She pulled her pencil from her paper to rotate her wrist as the familiar ache from the repetitive motions told her to take a break. Her left hand came up to rub the smooth ends of her middle and ring fingers on her right. She sighed heavily as the cursed phantom itching of her fingertips that once were haunted her. She could still feel the harrowing burn as her nerve endings were frayed and mangled at the onset of the frostbite. _That_ , was the con of an eidetic memory.

A knock at her door warranted her attention as she continued to rub her fingers willing the itching away. She turned on her heels to answer the door and was surprised to come face-to-face with Glaz. "Oh, hello," Nomad said giving him a slight smile. She was quite surprised that one of the more secluded operators would be paying her a visit. "Privyet, ah..." Glaz said scratching the back of his head. Nomad stifled a giggle as she noticed the way his thoughts became skewed in an attempt to conversate. "I was wondering," he continued, "if you'd like to help me give a course in climate tolerance and survival skill?" Nomad's smile widened as she gave him a gentle nod, "When will this take place?" Glaz looked around before giving her a shrug, "Sometime later today. Would you happen to have a survival pack?" Nomad placed a finger to her chin as she thought, "It's been some time since I've traveled, but I think I still have some supplies put together. Come in while I check." Glaz timidly took a step in as Nomad walked over to her closet. He busied himself by looking around not wanting to stare at her as she rummaged. His eyes landed on the pages of the open book on her desk, and he leaned forward craning his neck to see what covered the pages.

"Oh, you're an artist?" Glaz asked with a chipper and curious tone. Nomad shook her head as she chortled, "Hardly. I just skim out the places I've been as I remember them. You can take a look if you'd like," she said over her shoulder. Glaz wasted no time in making his way over to the sketchbook to admire the perfectly drawn and intricately detailed sketches. Dunes rippling with the patterns of the wind, trees that stretched towards the sky covered in thousands of unique pieces of bark, lakes that mirrored the world above them perfectly to the thinnest detail of clouds- her sketches were brilliant. Granite on sepia toned paper had never looked so vintage and timeless. "These are amazing," Glaz breathed as he flipped slowly through the pages being careful not to smudge the images. "Thank you," Nomad said placing her bag on her bed. "You know," Glaz began, "I'm an artist myself." Nomad opened her bag up to take a quick inventory of the contents, "You draw too?" Glaz shook his head as he turned her sketchbook back to it's original page, "I paint. Would you like to see?" Nomad zipped her bag up and turned to look at Glaz. She gave him another sly smile nodding her head slowly, "Of course."

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Glaz opened the door to his dorm and held an arm out allowing Nomad to walk in first. His room was more spacious and allowed him the perfect setup for his easel and paints which sat in the far right corner of his room. On it sat a half done painting of what looked like a sizable cabin in the middle of a snowy forested area. The other canvases which were fully covered pictured scenes of seats on an airplane with the oxygen masks deployed seen through a window, blood splattered walls covered in sports banners, an empty swimming pool full of confetti resting against the soft blues of an ocean, and a skyline of multiple Venetian styled roofs against an early sunset. "These are beautiful," Nomad said leaning forward to closely inspect the minute details that weren't easily seen at a distance. "You can pick them up and look at them, I trust you to," Glaz said walking over to look with her as well. Nomad obliged picking up a canvas displaying dimly lit colorful buildings in front of a night sky dotted with fireworks. She had to squint to see it, but just between the sky and the buildings was a city with lit windows that could have been easily mistaken for stars to the untrained eye.

"Where is this?" Nomad asked with a light breath. "Brazil. We were there to take back a favela the White Masks took hold of." The way his breath hitched on the last word suggested he had more to say. Nomad was curious although she didn't want to push boundaries, but not pushing boundaries didn't get her where she was now. "Did something happen? If you don't mind me asking," she said breaking her gaze from the painting to now study his face. He stared at the canvas for a moment before taking a deep breath in, "There was a hostage. A mother. Her children were being held nearby in their bedroom. We were able to extract them safely, but the mother didn't make it. She was their last resort." Nomad could see the pain in his eyes as he recalled the moment that imprinted the memory of the location in his mind. She looked back at the painting to run her right hand over the surprisingly smooth surface. "What happened there?" Glaz asked. "Hmm?" Nomad asked looking back over. Glaz nodded towards her hand that sat on top of the canvas, "What happened there?"

Nomad sighed through her nose as she placed the canvas down to hold her right hand in her left. "One of my shoes fell apart while trekking through Siberia. I chose to save my foot by using my glove to patch it up. On the third day thereafter, the tingling and burning started. By the fourth day, I had lost half of the feeling. When I made it out on the fifth day, they were nearly black with frostbite. They had to take them." Nomad began rubbing the ends of her two middle fingers, desperately trying to satisfy the returning itch of the fingertips she didn't have anymore. "I'm sorry," Glaz said apologetic in his tone alone. "It's fine, but I could ask you the same thing," Nomad said giving him another sly smile. "Kakiye?" he asked looking away slightly flustered. "Your eye. That's a pretty mean scar," she said tucking her hair behind an ear. "Ahhh, that. I used to do protection in Russia. I was escorting a client to their car when it exploded. I was lucky enough to be in close proximity. Glass caught me before I could close my eyes." Nomad's mouth lay slightly agape. She knew car bombs were a thing, but to hear a live recount was surreal. "To be honest," he continued. "I lost over half of my depth and color perception in this eye," he said closing his left one. "Then how do you snipe?" Nomad asked bewildered. Glaz alternated his eyes so that his left was the only one open, "I look with this one." Nomad twisted her mouth and squint her eyes. It didn't seem believable now. "And how can you see your targets so far away?"

Glaz pointed back to the painting of the favelas. "The same way I could capture the skyline of the city at night. You know what a sniper and an artist have in common?" Nomad shook her eyes looking back at the painting. "Details," he continued. "Like when a touch of color is out of place. When a shadow doesn't match it's surroundings, or when a shape is not where it's supposed to be," he said stepping behind her. Nomad could feel the rhythm of his breathing on her back as he stood closely to her. His shallow breathing like the sound of a low tide in her ear. "The only difference is the stakes," he said whispering in her ear. Nomad could feel her heart thump rapidly. Whether it were from excitement or fear, she couldn't tell. "Mine are higher." The loud splat of heavy paint droplets caused her to flinch as Glaz shook a brush covered in red paint towards the canvas. She wanted to protest. To whine and ask why he would ruin such a painting when she noticed the splatters complemented the situation of the scene.

Nomad sighed a sigh of relief as she took in what seemed like a whole 'nother painting. A few blips of red here and there near the bottom of the canvas took it from a scene at night to a painted story. "I can naturally tell when things aren't where they're supposed to be," Glaz said stepping around her. "And when the things that should be, aren't." Glaz plopped the paint brush in a coffee mug filled with murky brown water. He took one more look at the painting before giving it a nod of approval to then walk over to his bed. "Should I be looking forward to an art class with you?" Nomad teased as she followed him with her eyes. Glaz gave her a soft, short laugh, "Only if you'll teach it with me," he said pulling out a survival pack from under his bed. After their short "get to know you" session, Nomad had made up her mind that there were many things she'd have liked to do with him. He was a breath of fresh air. A pop of color in a line of work that was so bleak and gray. "I'd love to teach an art class with you, but we have to make it there first," Nomad joked heading towards his room door. She walked out into the hallway and started to head for the stairs. "I'll be back once I've gathered my things," she called over her shoulder. "No rush!" Glaz called back as he secured his things. He stopped for a moment to think before retrieving his notepad off his desk. He hastily flipped through the pages until he landed on the page he used to list things to paint. He marked through the first idea and scribbled a new one beside it. He had a new muse in his life; and where he had once wanted to paint Kafe Dostoyevsky from the view of the Christmas Market now sat his new subject: Sanaa's smile.

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 **So, the inspiration for this was... To be honest, I was watching a Siege updates video and Nomad was a topic, so I remembered she sketches where she's been so she's artsy, and Glaz is an artist so why not have an interaction. Then I remembered she's lacking two fingers and Glaz has a scar in his eye- so there's another thing; and now I have created the pairing y'all didn't know you needed so boom.**

 **Also, I did some things differently. Nomad colors her sketches, but since Glaz is already a painter I left out that she colors them. You can see her sketches when you go to her operator profile on the Rainbow 6 page of Ubisoft's site. You can even read and listen to her narrate what she wrote about her travels on the pages c: (She drew a little picture of Kaid in there. It's so cute ^u^)**

 **A note to Ubisoft: Stop trying to make NoMav happen Ubi. It's _NOT_ going to happen.**


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